


Standing You Up?

by harvroth



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 08:38:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6463336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harvroth/pseuds/harvroth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My eyebrows furrow, "when I asked you out you told me to piss off." </p><p>"And?" He asks, as if piss off is actually another way to say yes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Standing You Up?

**Author's Note:**

> Hiii, this is the first fanfic I've posted (although I have millions of Drarry and Scorbus on my phone and laptop - I'll probably post them at some point.)  
> It was inspired by a Tumblr post - which mine often are as it keeps me entertained.

Dropping my head to the arm of the sofa and my legs over the cushions, I rub at my face, hoping somehow this will erase my memory of the last four hours. 

God you'd have thought two pathetic attempts at dating would be enough for an 18 year old.

Evidently not. 

Although, to think trying to ask your rival out is not pathetic is pathetic in itself.

But, hey, I'm Harry Potter, when has my life ever not been a mess?

I groan in to my hands.

Quite frankly, I'm not planning on leaving the Gryffindor Tower for the rest of the year, it's warm, there's beds, baths and toilets and I can always call Winky to bring me food.

I snort, as if Hermione would ever let me get away with that one.

Christ what was I thinking asking Malfoy out? 

Malfoy! 

But god he's just got so hot recently, as opposed to just being handsome, his hair falls in silky strands over his forehead, his silver grey eyes are all twinkly (twinkly?) his skin is snow white but not in a deathly way and my god his body seems to have gotten leaner, not muscles, just more athletic.

How could I possibly stand in front of him and not suddenly blurt out "do you want to go for drinks tonight?"

"Aghhhh!" I groan again, exasperated.

All I can hear in my head is his dismayed, "piss off!"

I'd tried to act nonchalant and shrug it off, but inwardly I was bashing my head on the nearest wall, both for the fact that I'd asked him and for being upset that he'd said no.

Christ, I'm an idiot.

"What's wrong with you? All I could hear from over there was the sound of you groaning, thought you were getting some head." Ron chuckles, nudging my legs so he can sit and I pull them off sulkily.

"So, what's got you in a tiff?"

"Iaskedmalfoyonadate." I mutter.

"Sorry Harry, what? Did I hear the words Malfoy and date in one sentence?" Ron asks, sounding as if he can't decide whether he's amused or disgusted.

I nod guiltily and he snorts.

"Are you mardy because you asked him or did he say no?" 

I open my mouth to reply when there's a scream from the Fat Lady, followed by a series of loud thudding.

Me and Ron glance at each other before racing to the portrait, reaching it before the other few Gryffindors.

The portrait flings open and we're faced with a very flushed, scowling Malfoy.

"Malfoy?" I mutter, cautiously as he continues to bellow at the Fat Lady.

He finally realises the door is open and he turns to look at me, his eyes narrowing even more, his lips in a pout that makes me want to kiss him.

If it wasn't me he was aiming the outburst at, I'd have called his cat who didn't get the cream expression, adorable. However, it did appear to be aimed at me, but Merlin knew why. 

"Potter!" He huffs, not caring about the crowd of Gryffindors that have gathered at the entrance, "think you can stand me up? We had a date tonight! Where the hell have you been?" He folds his arms over his chest, pouting once more and I notice how nice he's dressed - a white button up that had the top buttons undone, black wool trousers and tanned brogues.

My god, he's beautiful.

I gulp, my eyes meeting his again, as I take in what he just said.

My eyebrows furrow, "when I asked you out you told me to piss off." 

"And?" He asks, as if piss off is actually another way to say yes.

"And, piss off is usually taken as a no. A 'yes, I'll go for drinks with you, Potter,' would have sufficed."

He ' hmphs' and then lifts his chin up high, "fine, if you don't want to go for drinks now that's not a problem."

He goes to turn round, but without thinking I step out the door and grab his arm, ignoring the rush of heat I get when my skin touches his. 

"Malfoy, wait," he turns to look at me, eyebrow raised in an aristocrat, proud way.

"You wanna go out?" I ask, unsure.

He rolls his eyes, "yes, Potter, very much so. And I'd like to go now." He says, matter of factly. 

"Now?" I look down at myself, I'm dressed in a plain emerald t-shirt, skinny grey jeans and tattered converse.

"Yes now. You look gorgeous, as always, let's go."

And then, before I can comprehend his compliment, he's grabbing my hand and tugging me down the hallway.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise if it's badly written, or if there's any grammar/spelling mistakes, but thank you for reading nonetheless x  
> My tumblr is claycro, but I'm new on it so a little clueless but I'll figure it out, feel free to follow <3


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